


Rockit

by devilcouldweep, OblesseNoblige



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Anal Sex, Ass to Mouth, Biting, Crying, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, Intoxication, Jealousy, M/M, Murdoc is emotionally unavailable once again, Public Sex, Relax its consensual, Rough Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:13:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25765771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devilcouldweep/pseuds/devilcouldweep, https://archiveofourown.org/users/OblesseNoblige/pseuds/OblesseNoblige
Summary: 2D thinks he must be a pretty good dancer. Well, he has to assume as much really, because Murdoc always stares at him when he dances.
Relationships: Murdoc Niccals/Stuart "2D" Pot
Comments: 7
Kudos: 207





	Rockit

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, I've collaborated with my good friend OblesseNoblige! Wouldn't be possible with them!

2D thinks he must be a pretty good dancer. Well, he has to assume as much really, because Murdoc always stares at him when he dances.

He should be used to being watched, but it’s different when Murdoc does it.

Murdoc’s always looking at him with such deep, predatory focus. He’s like a vulture. Probably thinks 2D can’t tell how badly he wants to pick him apart.

Tonight’s no different; Murdoc’s at the bar wetting his tongue and 2D’s out on the floor pretending he can’t feel him burning holes into his body with his stare. It’s that time when late night blurs into early morning, when 2D’s short term memories start slipping away and he can’t recall what he was doing just moments before.

It’s probably because he’s completely fucked up off of his pills and the booze again. Doesn’t really know why he gets so drunk all the time. He’s fucked up enough to forget where he is right now. But he can’t; not with Murdoc pinning him down with his gaze.

2D can’t remember all the people he’s danced with tonight. It’s just a blurry haze of bodies and roaming hands. Their little touches feel so much more intense with Murdoc watching.

What would old Muds think if he knew 2D was doing this on purpose? That he dances because his attention feels good? Allows strangers to feel him up because he knows it makes him  _ angry. _

The question is far too complicated for 2D to figure out on his own. 

All 2D knows for sure is that he feels really good under the heat of the technicolor lights. Sweat clings to his skin like thin glitter. The loud bass thumping in his head. 

2D is completely single-minded in his movements. He’s just going through the motions never allowing his hips to stop swaying, his feet to stop shuffling. More than anything, he’s got to convince himself to let strange hands roam his body. It’s all for Murdoc.

_ His eyes are all over my body. _

Whoever he’s dancing with now is kissing his throat, playing with the hairs at his nape. Her breath is warm, but the dark eyes from the bar watching them burn hotter.

She remains unaware as they bounce together. She thinks she might get to have him for the night, 2D thinks, because she’s whispering sweet things into his ear, but he can’t really hear her. Music’s too loud and his mind feels like TV static.

The song feels floaty-- or maybe it’s just 2D who’s floating.

Her hands trace his lithe back, but he’s not tempted. He holds her close with half-hearted hands.

When her voice lilts upwards, 2D realizes she must be asking him a question. She sounds pleasant enough, so 2D blindly agrees. He figures she must be asking for a drink.

She places her cigarette to her vivid lips--  _ She’d been smoking this whole time? _ And take a long, long pull from it, looking up at him with an uncomfortably familiar glimmer in her eye.

2D’s heart drops to the pit of his stomach. Now that he’s finally got a good look at her face, lit up by the flashing lights of the club, he can see this woman bears a striking resemblance to Paula Cracker. For a long, panicked moment, 2D almost believes it  _ is _ her, but he notes this woman doesn’t have a mole adorning her upper lip as she slots her mouth against his and blows.

Still, 2D’s shaken by the likeness; It’s hard for him to remember it really isn’t her so he tries to focus on the smoke instead; It’s menthol, flavored with something sweet and artificial. He sucks it in without thinking and only flinches a little when she traces his lips with her tongue.

_ Paula. _ It was Murdoc who had taken her away from him, wasn’t it? And good riddance; she was a whore. Though somehow, even after all these years, the thought of it feels like an old bruise, still sore to the touch.

Why was the choice left up to Murdoc?

Back then, it just seemed like Murdoc just enjoyed stealing from him, because he’s a dirty liar and a thief, but 2D knows better now. He knows that it’s really because Murdoc doesn’t like to share his things.

2D is his pretty songbird, after all. Whether it’s putting himself between 2D and any potential love interest, or just the way he carefully manages his time, Murdoc’s desperate to keep his wings clipped. 

_ Lest I fly, fly away. _

2D doesn’t let it show, but he’s well aware that he’s being kept cornered, like a doll on display, out of reach. So why can’t he stop thinking about Murdoc? 

Is he really so fond of his little birdcage?

It’s difficult to think about so 2D lets his mind go blank. He can wonder about it later. 

2D’s getting kissed by the woman more than he’s kissing her back. She probably realizes this as she pulls back, but he doesn’t have any time to think about it because someone’s yanking him away from her by the collar of his shirt.

For a moment he feels like he’s just watching his body go, and he stares at the woman’s shocked, disappointed face as he gets dragged away. Once the moment passes, regains bodily autonomy and wonders why he’s being pulled off somewhere.

He’s not particularly surprised when he looks back to see Murdoc’s the one leading him off to who knows where. If anything, it’s relieving. The acknowledgment from him feels good.

“Don’ have to pull so bloody hard, you know,” 2D insists. “Where are we going?”

Of course, Murdoc probably can’t hear a word of what he’s said, and whether or not he wants to hear him was debatable anyways. 2D’s led through the massive crowd to the bathrooms- the lines are long, but they’re allowed entry.

Perks of fame.

There’s already two people in there, both squeezed into one of the two stalls having noisy sex. That explains the line outside, then. 2D feels his heart rate pick up as he involuntarily listens in on them, only able to focus on one thing at a time.

His palms are quite sweaty, he realizes, though he’s trying to remain keyed in on Murdoc who’s absolutely  _ seething _ in front of him. His scowl is deep, sallow skin wrinkled. They’re just standing in front of the stalls with the large public mirror reflecting their ugliness back at them.

2D tries not to look.

“What the hell was that?” Murdoc asks, accusatory. He still hasn’t released his grip on 2D’s collar, forcing him to hunch awkwardly to stay at that angle. Their faces are so close that he can feel Murdoc’s alcoholic breath brush against his cheeks.

God, 2D’s face is really tingling. Now that he’s finally able to stand still again, he can feel just how ruined his sense of balance is.

2D gently puts his hands onto Murdoc’s wrists, both for stability and for warmth. He can really feel the tightness of his hold like this. Like talons digging into prey. 

“I was just dancin’, Muds-” 2D tries to explain, but Murdoc cuts him off. He’s gone a touch mental from how possessive he is. 

“D’you think I wouldn’t see you kissin’ Cracker?  _ Cracker _ of all people-- She’s  _ trouble,  _ Stu! I dunno how she’s even managed to find us here! This is the last thing we need as a band.” As if Murdoc’s actually worried about  _ the band _ at this moment, but 2D doesn’t really mind at all.

He’s talking 1000 miles per minute. Must be the coke.

“Shhh, It's okay. Wasn’t Cracker, Muds,” 2D soothes, voice pouring out of him slowly, dreamily. “She had no mole.”

They are the complete opposites of each other. Murdoc’s going too fast, frantic, and 2D can’t seem to catch up to him at all; he’s wobbly.

“So-- What? You were snogging her doppelganger? You’ve got a bloody type, don’t you?”

_ Short, dark hair, black clothes, closed heart, mean spirit. _

“Relax,” 2D coos. At this point his nerves are so frayed that he needs the comfort just as much as Murdoc. “Don’t you ever want to relax, love?”

2D’s slender hands drift up Murdoc’s arms and onto his shoulders. He gives them a fleeting little squeeze, feeling strained muscle underneath Murdoc’s jacket. They keep on drifting to cup his neck. Murdoc’s skin is damp with sweat and 2D can feel it acutely when he tilts his head back ever so slightly, as if he wants to press those hands closer.

Murdoc’s glare begins to wane, 2D’s gentleness far outweighing his own fury. His expression becomes pinched, eyes clenched and teeth gritted as 2D keeps on drifting upwards. It's like he can't accept how good it feels.

“ _ Dee,” _ Murdoc pleads, his voice sounds thick with...somethin’. 2D ignores him. He’s tired of always trying to  _ decipher _ him.

He’s got his hands in Murdoc’s hair now; feels good for both of them. 2D’s so focused on him that he can’t even hear the couple fucking in the stall anymore. He loves how Murdoc’s grip just melts as he caresses him. Murdoc looks positively destroyed. 

But 2D knows Murdoc well enough to know that if you pet him long enough, it’s only a matter of time until he bites.

Without warning, Murdoc surges forward and presses his lips to 2D’s. His mouth is horribly _ bitter, _ residual coke on his teeth. Makes 2D’s tongue tingle.

Still, 2D can’t really help falling into the kiss. It isn't seamless; Murdoc's trying to pull them into the empty stall and they stumble on their way in. 2D follows all too eagerly; this is the resolution he needs.

"L-lock the bloody door," Murdoc grunts, hands shaking desperately as he tugs 2D closer.

2D fiddles with the lock with his arm behind his back, unwilling to untangle himself from Murdoc's hold. After some struggle, he somehow (miraculously) gets the damned door to stay shut, and Murdoc wastes no time in shoving 2D’s back against it. Their bodies are flush against each other and 2D can feel Murodc’s hard-on grinding into his hip insistently.

“Feel that, faceache?” Murdoc hisses into his neck. 2D just leans back and lets Murdoc touch wherever he wants. “This is what you do to me.”

Again, he’s got his hands in Murdoc’s hair-- He knows it drives Murdoc up the wall when he touches there.

“You love playing your little blame games,” 2D sing-songs. He already forgives Murdoc, even before he utters whatever half-assed justification he has prepared.

“I was watching you, ya know--” Murdoc admits, increasingly manic. His mis-matched irises are nearly swallowed by his pupils. He’s so bloody high, but then again, so is 2D.

“The way you were passing yourself around, lettin’ ‘em put their hands all over you… You looked like you were just havin’ the time of your life. How _else_ am I meant to feel?”

"You always watch me dance, I know,” 2D hums, unconcerned. Murdoc’s tongue feels so good pressed up against his pulse. He’s kissing in the same place as that other woman had, but 2D actually reacts to Murdoc’s touch; he can feel this with much more clarity.

"Don’t flatter yourself. It’s just ‘cause you were with that bloody  _ Paula _ wannabe-”

"Liar. I know you like to watch.  _ You're my voyeur _ ."

Murdoc scoffs. He’s been caught in his lie, but it doesn’t mean much to a man like Murdoc. He never learned when to stop bearing his teeth.

“Oh, I’m a voyeur now, am I? Then you must be my filthy little exhibitionist.”

He shoves his knee between 2D’s legs, parting them easily, and twists 2D’s nipple harshly through his shirt, mean-spirited and smirking as he watches 2D lose his breath.

“Gets you off, doesn’t it, Dents? Knowing that I’m watching when you get groped by random fuckfaces,” Murdoc growls into his skin.

_ He’s right. _

“ _ Murdoc _ ,” 2D whines, at a loss for words.

Not that he gives 2D a chance to respond. Murdoc’s crushing their mouths together in no time, and 2D is distantly aware of him trying to lift up his shirt. 

Soon as he's got it propped up over 2D's chest he leans in to take a perky nipple between his teeth. He's not exactly a tender man, is he?

He bites and tugs, wastes no time swirling his warm tongue over 2D's sensitive skin and sucking on it roughly. Reduces 2D to heated gasps as he squirms in Murdoc's grip. He feels like he’s being devoured.

His whole body is tingling now, feverish. 2D can feel the precum leaking from his throbbing cock all over the inside of his boxer briefs.

Murdoc lets his hands roam 2D's body as he lavishes his chest with attention, grazes his painted nails over his flat stomach and flicks his belly button piercing. His hands sink lower to squeeze his ass, pulling them even closer together. 

2D cants his hips forward, arching up off of the door to get closer to Murdoc. He's so wound up; they’ve been building up to this for such a long time, doing their own little dance around each other for ages. It feels so good when they can finally touch again.

“Want you,” 2D breathes, voice low and sweet. “D’you want me?”

Instead of directly answering him, Murdoc begins to unbuckle 2D’s belt. Maybe it’s better that he doesn’t say anything; 2D’s so tired of talking, deciphering, explaining...

Murdoc’s hands are shaking badly, yet 2D doesn’t try to help, because he knows he wouldn’t fare much better.

Once the buckle finally unclasps, Murdoc wastes no time pulling 2D’s cock out of his pants and giving him a few good pumps. 2D hikes his leg up, hooks it around Murdoc’s hip hoping to deepen the touch. He clings weakly to Murdoc’s shoulders, loose-gripped and dizzy.

Murdoc detaches from 2D’s chest to yank his head back down for another messy kiss. Their height difference makes it a little awkward, but 2D doesn’t mind.

The taste of coke’s finally dissolved into something more alcoholic; still unpleasant, but certainly an improvement. 2D loves the feeling of Murdoc’s split tongue rubbing against his own.

He’s distantly aware of the urgent moans seeping from his mouth, but he feels no shame. Doesn’t care that they’re in a public restroom, that they could be caught.

Hell, they could make headlines, but none of that fazes 2D in the slightest. There’s only one thing he wants and it’s Murdoc.

“Wanna fuck me, Muds?” 2D proposes airily, whispering into their kiss. 

“No, I just pulled us into this shithole so we could piss together. What do you think?” Murdoc jeers. It sounds like a warning, but 2D can't be fucked to worry about it.

“Have you got any lube?” 2D asks thickly, kissing the side of Murdoc’s face.

“No,” Murdoc mutters into his ear. “But if you turn around, I’ll make certain you’re good and wet for me.”

2D’s faint heart skips a beat. Murdoc’s good at breaking promises, but that doesn’t stop 2D from believing him with his whole heart.

He turns around, bracing his palms and forehead against the sticky stall door. He pokes his ass out for Murdoc, waits impatiently as the older man slides his Levi’s further down. His breath accelerates as he feels Murdoc’s admiring hands roam the expanse of his back, his thin waist and tight hips.

Accelerates further still as he hears Murdoc kneel down behind him.

_ Yes, please just get on with it. _

“Always had a nice arse, Dee,” Murdoc murmurs, uncharacteristically honest.

Murdoc’s squeezing his ass in no time, far from gentle, but 2D loves every second of it. Yelps when Murdoc bites one of his cheeks with his jagged teeth.

“Fuck--  _ Muds!” _

“Couldn’t help myself,” he chuckles darkly, licking the fresh mark as some sort of half-hearted apology. His tongue feels good on the sore spot.

2D feels his mind lag worse than before as Murdoc finally stops dicking around and swipes his long tongue against his asshole. Sends shivers up his spine. 

The wet sound of Murdoc’s snogging along with the sensation of his fucked up nose lightly brushing 2D’s skin gives the singer the most incredible head rush.

“Oooh, it’s so  _ soft _ , Stu,” Murdoc gravely praises, though good things never last with him. “Recently used?”

_ He’s right. Again.  _

“S-sod off you miserable prick,” 2D grits out. He can’t bear to lift his head from the door, he’s so flushed. His body feels so light, legs weak.

Murdoc laughs again when he hears the strain in 2D’s voice, and then he dips his split tongue inside. Doesn’t wait long before he sticks a finger in for good measure. 2D’s body jolts, his nerves lit up with electricity at the extra stimulation. 

His voice is just pouring out of him and he can’t help it; he’s slurring from pleasure. 

2D’s loose enough that Murdoc easily slips in a second finger, and then a third. He’s prying into 2D, trying to get him as sloppy as possible. He’s not quite hitting the spot that his singer needs him to and it’s driving 2D up the wall. Just makes his cock leak even more from such an intense tease.

“Come on…  _ Come on _ , Muds, I’m ready,” 2D begs, panting.

“Needy little thing, aren’t you? You’re cryin’ like a bird,” Murdoc mocks, as if his voice isn’t trembling.

With some effort, Murdoc manages to rise from his kneeling position and 2D can hear him undo his own belt. Hears Murdoc spit into his own palm and start stroking himself, trying to get his cock as wet as possible so he doesn’t hurt 2D  _ too much _ .

2D lets out a big breath as Murdoc lines his prick up with his hole and cries out as he slowly sinks in. Murdoc groans lewdly as he presses further in. Mercifully, he holds still when his hips make contact with 2D’s ass, fully inside. They’re pressed so close that they can feel each other’s beating hearts.

Murdoc’s hunched over 2D’s back with one hand on his shoulder, the other hand resting on his stomach, just under his piercing. He’s got to stand on his tip-toes to match 2D’s height; it’d be kind of comical if they both weren’t so hungry for each other.

“M-move,” 2D breathes, voice cracking.

He doesn’t need to tell Murdoc twice.

In spite of his obvious desperation, Murdoc starts off painfully slow. He pulls out, then grips 2D’s shoulder to force him back onto his cock.

“Oh Satan-- _ Stu, _ ” Murdoc curses, fingertips digging into 2D’s damp skin as he moves. “You’re sooo bloody _ warm… _ ” 

He’s being uncharacteristically cautious so as not to rush this; hell, 2D’s pretty sure he can even feel Murdoc drooling onto his own prick to keep him feeling slick. But this pace has 2D sick with impatience; he’s nauseated by it, the teasing.

"Murdoc--" 2D cries, struggling.

"I know," Murdoc grunts. "I’ve got you.”

2D’s got to appreciate that Murdoc’s an older man. Murdoc’s gruff reassurance, combined with his extensive sexual history, oddly relaxes 2D. In spite of Murdoc’s typically foul disposition, 2D knows he’s in very capable hands.

Murdoc stays true to his word (for once), starts snapping his hips at a much less agonizing pace. 2D’s no less overwhelmed, but he can handle Murdoc’s roughness.

More like he craves it, if he’s honest.

Murdoc’s prick is rubbing all the right spots inside of him, leaving 2D wanting more. For the time being, he feels alright. Forgets his problems. He paradoxically wants to rush this just as much as he wishes it would never end.

2D starts rocking his hips in time with Murdoc’s thrusts, quickening their pace exponentially. It’s punishing; just what 2D thinks he needs.

“Bloody hell, Stu,” Murdoc gasps, gripping 2D’s hips with bruising force. Their skin slaps obscenely and reverberates off of the bathroom walls.

“Think I’m gonna break,” 2D admits, voice high pitched and ragged.

“That’s the idea,” Murdoc grits out, unkind. “Must be nice, gettin’ what you wanted, eh, Stu?”

“M-Muds,” 2D slurs, because it’s the only thing he knows how to say. All he can do is clutch the door as he fucks himself on Murdoc’s cock.

“You were whoring yourself out for my attention, weren’t you? Said it yourself,” Murdoc hisses. He’s losing whatever little composure he had as he hisses out a high-pitched curse.  _ “Shit!  _ Wanted me to treat you like the slut you are.”

2D doesn’t answer. Murdoc’s right, after all.  _ He’s always right. _

At some point, 2D notes something quietly dripping onto the dirty bathroom floor, and realizes he’s crying; fat tears welling from his opaque eyes, spilling down his flushed cheeks. Is this relief? Or an effect of the drugs? Maybe he’s just overwhelmed. 2D can’t even begin to guess why he’s crying. 

Murdoc grips him tighter, arms wrapped around 2D’s torso; he’s got to help hold him up as 2D’s legs turn to jelly. Sobs wrack his body and 2D doesn’t know anything except for how fucking  _ good  _ that feels. Murdoc’s arms around him, the tears, the cock in his ass.

_ Everything. _

“Oh, God,” 2D hiccups incoherently. He never stops moving his hips, even as Murdoc tries to do most of the work for him. He’s out of his mind.

“Hush; you’re alright, Dents,” Murdoc soothes between his harsh gasps, voice cracking. He’s not sounding very convincing; in fact, he sounds like he’s about to reach his own breaking point, but perhaps just this once it’s the thought that counts.

Murdoc’s straining to remain balanced on his tip-toes as he pounds into 2D. He feels hot breaths against his sweaty back as they both exert themselves. Droplets of precum spatter the filthy bathroom tiles as 2D’s cock swings between his legs from the force of their fucking.

2D's clawing at the bloody door for dear life just trying not to topple over as Murdoc fucks his damned headlights out. His legs are so weak, head so foggy.

He cums without warning. Feels like it’s been wrung out of him like water from a towel, and he’s struggling not to cry harder when Murdoc reaches down to fist his cock through it. Murdoc’s saying something or other into his back, but 2D simply cannot hear him.

_ I’m seeing stars… _

His entire body quickly grows oversensitive, legs shaking as Murdoc keeps going.

“Jus’ a little more, Stu,” Murdoc pleads, begs.

It only takes about a minute or so for Murdoc to finish, but to 2D it feels like an eternity.

His thrusts grow choppy as he reaches his release, filling 2D with his warm seed. Murdoc’s grip on 2D is crushing and he sounds utterly destroyed as he grunts against his singer's hot skin.

_ “Ooh, bloody fucking hell, Dee…” _

2D struggles to fill his lungs with air. He collapses against the bathroom door, only able to stay upright because somehow Murdoc’s supporting him from behind.

Truthfully, it’s less like he’s supporting 2D and more like he’s limply leaning his own body weight to pin his singer firmly against the door. They’re both spent.

2D notes the hammering of his own heart, and the softness of Murdoc’s hair resting on his shoulder. Can't seem to think of much else.

The moment passes all too quickly.

"Care to stand on your own, love?" Murdoc says sarcastically, though it admittedly holds less weight when he sounds like he's just run a marathon.

"I can stand, you old goth," 2D guesses, moody. 

He pushes off of the door and his legs are still weak, but he can definitely make it back to their hotel and that's all that matters.

Murdoc pulls out of him and 2D feels warm liquid leak out, dribbling down his thighs. It leaves him with the strangest emptiness, just like always. It’s a little pathetic, melancholy.

They're just going to pretend this never happened later, after all.

2D belatedly realizes the other couple must've left some time ago as the silence of the bathroom surrounds them. Still, no one's come in to replace them since technically the bathroom's at capacity.

“Heh. I’ve made a mess of you, haven’t I?,” Murdoc remarks, slapping 2D’s ass for good measure, the cheeky prick.

“Arsehole,” 2D mutters. 

He lightly shoves Murdoc away from his back to grab some toilet paper; the post-sex haze is gone too soon and he needs to wipe off.

He's so sore, freshly used.

2D sits on the toilet once he’s done, pants pulled up and belt pulled back on tightly.

He digs around in his pocket for his cigarette case and pulls out the least wrinkled one.

“Have you got a lighter? Dropped mine somewhere.”

“D’you know who I am? ‘Course I do,” Murdoc quietly replies.

Murdoc lights 2D’s cig as he holds it between pressed lips, then leans against the bathroom door, arms folded, avoiding eye contact.

It’s too quiet for 2D’s taste, but still, Murdoc’s kind of beautiful when he’s quiet. It’s too bad the old bastard never stays quiet for very long.

With an annoyed grunt he lights one of his own, probably to distract himself. 

“You knew, didn’t you?” he says after a strained pause. It’s odd how he doesn’t sound defensive.

“Wot-?” 2D blinks, brow furrowing mid-puff. He genuinely has no idea what Murdoc’s on about.

“You knew I was watchin’ you.”

“Oh. Right. Yeah, I did,” he admits.

Another uncomfortable silence. 2D doesn’t know what to say and Murdoc seems to be contemplating something pretty hard.

2D takes another few pensive drags of his cigarette before flicking his gaze toward Murdoc. As their eyes meet, he gets the sinking feeling that Murdoc might hit him.

But instead, he just says:

“You were alright.”

2D’s heart skips two beats at his reluctant admission, but Murdoc doesn’t give him time to respond. “Let’s get the hell outta here, Faceache,” he jerks his head to the side, a gesture that marks the end of their little tryst.

Murdoc kicks the metal handle of the toilet with the heel of his boot, flushing the waste 2D left in it. Now the only evidence of their brief intimacy are the bruises peppering 2D’s skin, still painful to the touch. But even those will fade soon enough; every nice thing they share together is fleeting.

It’s the nature of their symbiotic relationship. 

Murdoc slams open the stall door and strides out, leaving 2D to fly after him, ever his loyal songbird.


End file.
